


Indecision

by IreneClaire



Series: Various Notions Collection [22]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Protective Steve McGarrett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 07:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12360324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: Word of the Day Self Challenge: Indecision - a wavering between two or more possible courses of action.He couldn't do it again. No. No, he wouldn't let them do it again. Jaw set in determination and ready to argue his case, even fight them if necessary, Danny gave the nurse his best death-glare until he saw his partner hovering just inside the doorway. He waffled. Badly.





	Indecision

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

 

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

_**Word of the Day:** Indecision - a wavering between two or more possible courses of action_.

 

He couldn't do it again. No. _No_ , he wouldn't _let_ them do it again. Jaw set in determination and ready to argue his case, even fight them if necessary, Danny gave the nurse his best death-glare until he saw his partner hovering just inside the doorway. He waffled. Badly.

"Steve?" Danny called out more plea than question. His face crumpled then in abject relief, losing his faux sense of purpose in that instant he saw his partner. Bone-tired and utterly - helplessly - useless to stop what was going to really happen. Danny held his hand up, pleading with Steve to intervene even though he knew that his partner wouldn't be able to do a damned thing either. At least not for long.

"Steve ... hey. I... uh." He wanted to say so much but his voice failed him.

_I can't do this._

_Make it stop._

_Get me the hell out of here._

_Not again ...please._

If he thought his claustrophobia was bad in a real situation which might warrant it, being in the hospital was surely bringing that tendency to the fore. He was trapped. Stuck in place. Incapable of moving or getting away from angels who were slowly becoming demons in the minutes and hours between when his visitors came. There was nothing romantic about being in the hospital. Nothing peaceful about the flowers, get well cards or balloons. At night, in the hours between, they lost their color and faded into the background. When his angels became demons and he was merely the patient in bed 323, Danny wallowed and began a dark descent which was slowly spiraling out of control.

"Steve ... hey." Danny's voice barely projected beyond the edge of the hospital bed and Steve saw it all; he recognized Danny's fear and then heard his plea. He gently shouldered by the nurse, his expression sad, worried, and scared all combined into one terrible whole. He'd soon be just as helpless as Danny, but he could at least provide a bit of a buffer.

"Give us a few minutes?" Steve asked the nurse as he carefully perched himself on the edge of Danny's hospital bed, their hands now clasped together. Danny tried to voluntarily loosen his death-grip, but his knuckles were already white. His hand sweaty and cold inside Steve's drier, warmer one. Steve didn't say a word about it, nor did he look at the nurse. It was as if he didn't really see her at all. On another day, Danny might have smiled because Steve just assumed that she'd do whatever he'd asked. Period. End of story. Steve also never considered what he might do if she'd declined his request. Danny briefly wondered about that before he just didn't care. Over Steve's shoulder, Danny saw what Steve couldn't. He saw the nurse frown and then her hesitation as she stopped cold, bandages and medical supplies in hand. She looked into Danny's face and paused, indecision in her expression.

He read her thoughts clear as day.

 _She had things to do - other patients to care for._ Steve was disrupting her routine and she was resentful about that; she could also pull her own rank and insist that she continue on her task. Steve was messing with her schedule and Danny wondered if this time, the nurse would indeed refuse and argue for her rights. But then she was relenting and leaving, and Danny relaxed just a bit.

"Bad night," Steve noted, drawing Danny's full attention back to him. His eyes were big inside a face which Danny thought might mirror his own levels of fear and worries. Steve not only cared ... he also knew what Danny was going through. That mattered _. A lot._

"You got this ... you know that. Just a few more days and you'll be outta here."

After a minute, Danny nodded as he accepted the cup of water Steve held out to him. His hand was shaking already and his mouth was dry. He sipped carefully at the water, fidgeting and fighting with himself to go slow because more than a sip would send him into a painful coughing fit. His throat wasn't only dry, it was closing up and his breath was already off ... inconsistent and fluttery inside his chest.

"You're okay," Steve said and Danny snorted softly under his breath. That was almost comical. The _'are you okay?'_ question had become a _'you're okay'_ statement within a short period of time. The former had quickly become a ridiculously stupid question of mammoth proportions. Steve had recognized that too. So at least from Steve, there were no more _questions_ about how Danny was feeling or what he might need or even what he really wanted. Just statements of pure, unadulterated fact.

Danny was supposed to believe that he'd be okay. He wasn't sure if he knew how though.  That particular fact was Steve's and not necessarily his. Not yet.

"I'll stay and after, we'll watch the game," Steve added just as calmly as before. "I spoke to the doctor this morning and he thinks you'll be outta here in three days tops. This time next week, you'll be home ... parked in your favorite chair. Beer in hand and burgers on the grill. No more hospital food or ...," and Steve smirked as he gave a circumspect nod towards Danny's blanketed torso. "... or more ... you know ... tubes or wires."

Danny tried to smile. He really did, but he was still having a hell of a time thinking that far ahead and even imagining being in a better spot. And the truth was, he'd probably be exchanging one type of hell for another in the forms of physical therapy, other kinds of pills, and continued doctors visits. Things would only be different.

And did _different_ come in flavors? Danny didn't know. He couldn't get his brain to figure it all out. Unable of living beyond his current nose, Danny was stuck in the pain and horror of his present condition. He couldn't envision anything better at all.

He nodded for no reason at all then, his eyes begging to be allowed to close. He was always exhausted; his muscles, always shaking. There never seemed to be enough rest prescribed within his daily routine. Doctors, nurses ... a never-ending assembly line of being poked and prodded for some reason or another disturbed him at all times of day or night. There was always something to be done to keep him breathing - to keep him alive.

Blood tests, sponge baths, simple bed-ridden exercises to avoid pneumonia, a veritable overabundance of medications in both pill and intravenous forms to combat pain and infection. Then there were the sad attempts at sitting on the edge of the bed. Trying to stand, then shuffle a few slippered steps with an aide on either side of him offering support.

He snorted softly under his breath again, tears threatening. _Support?_ What did that mean really? Danny was beginning to wonder if anything was worth it.

_Was he worth it? Why did it matter?_

"Danno?" He must have closed his eyes or zoned out, because Danny found himself blinking madly to focus back on Steve's blurry face. There was a gentle tug on his fingers, the feel of Steve's thumb on his pulse point. The heavy warmth of Steve's other hand splayed across his good shoulder.

"Yeah. Sure," he rasped out. He was still there. _Just_. Danny's eyes met Steve's for a second time and he read the worry all over again before another movement caught his attention. His gaze flicked away to the doorway and his swallow was convulsive. The nurse was back and Danny felt himself cringing.

"Look at me," Steve said adamantly when Danny tried to look away. Their eyes met and held this time. There was much more in Steve's expression now. A strength and a determination which Danny latched on to with both hands. There was something new in Steve's stare which he could hope to draw on and try to lose himself in to get through another day.

 _Try. Hope._ Danny's expression wavered and Steve shook his head, his tone calm.

"You're okay," Steve stated it again as a simple fact while the nurse prepared her tray to change the bandages, repack the gauze in the one-time gaping bullet wound. It was smaller now ... healing well so he was told. Yet Danny still didn't see it that way. He couldn't _feel_ it that way. The pain was just as thick, heavy and oppressive. Any attention aimed at that wound, no matter how gentle, would take his breath away, bring tears to his eyes; test his ability to not literally growl out his agony.

His breath shuddered in preparation of that fire as the nurse began to inject a few supposedly soothing ingredients into his IV line. They'd help of course. The morphine and the antiemetic. None of that preamble was ever enough though and Danny briefly screwed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through something which hadn't even begun.

 _Pavlov's bell._ His body coiled and tensed because over the last week it had learned how to react to the nurse's presence. Blinding pain. Nausea.

_Not again ... please._

Danny heaved in a broken breath of air, eyes still closed, and promptly coughed. He winced at the warning pull inside his chest and felt the sweat beading his forehead.

_Get me the hell out of here._

"Steve?" Danny's whisper was scarcely audible. Steve heard him though and he understood everything that went with the utterance of his name.

_Make it stop._

"Take it easy," Steve coached quietly. "I'm right here ... and you _are_ okay. Besides, I need to tell you something ... it's important, Danno. It can't wait and I need to tell you about it now."

If Danny was hurting the fingers on Steve's hand, Steve certainly didn't complain. Danny focused back on Steve's face, breathing in his partner's stalwart strength and not only hearing the calm words, but listening to them this time.

Steve didn't offer him platitudes. He didn't lie or mislead him at all. So as Danny clung to his best friend's hand while the nurse began to change the dressing on the bullet wound, Danny focused on Steve's careful smile, knew it meant something and found the wherewithal to ask about it.

"What?" Danny asked brokenly as his breath threatened to leave him. The nurse was close ... right on top of him and Danny felt the first layer get peeled back. The old gauze was sticking in spots to his skin and no matter her care, the ache flared. "W-what h-happened?"

He cringed and tried not to cough as she teased the first layer away. His throat was drier than dust. His resilience practically gone. The old bandages were slowly removed one by one, tossed aside on the nurse's tray. He tried to ignore the muted red color he could see just out of the corner of his eye. The pain was becoming deep and numbing despite the preparatory medication given him. He could feel the room's cool air waft across his ruined tissues and it hurt more. Danny closed his eyes and then forced them back open when Steve squeezed his fingers, his determination was flagging far too soon.

"You're going to like this. We got him," Steve stated bluntly. His smile grew when Danny stared almost dumbly at him. "Ewing. We got him early this morning. The DEA caught him at the airport - _this morning_ \- trying to board a plane to Paris. He's in custody ... quite alive ... and going down for everything he's done, Danno. We got him, buddy."

His fingers rubbed methodically up and over Danny's knuckles as he patiently waited for Danny to absorb what he'd just said.

Danny blinked again, more wildly than ever before. Michael Ewing? They'd gotten him? The man who had orchestrated the trafficking of innocent children ... the man who had shot Danny with intent to kill at point blank range?

"Ewing? Seriously?" Danny croaked out and then shook his head in disbelief. But ... Steve never lied and he was smiling. Beaming actually and Danny forgot all about the nurse. He forgot everything as his partner's expression became predatory and wolf-like. Steve was so damned pleased that Danny felt the change in energy clear down to his toes. It was as if an electrical charge permeated between them and a warmth flooded through Danny strong enough to calm his breathing and quiet the pained tremble in his hands.

"Oh yeah," Steve replied. "I'm totally serious. The conceited bastard was at the gate ... nearly boarding when Agent Morales and his team plucked him right then and there off the queue. I saw him myself and shared a few choice - ah... _words_. By tomorrow, he'll be State-side and after? No doubt he'll be put away for a very, very ... _very_ long time."

"Holy shit," Danny murmured distractedly. "We got him ... we really got him."

He smiled and then grinned up into Steve's face. Steve's sharing of a few choice words could mean just about anything. Danny had a good idea of what that was though and Agent Morales would have turned a very blind eye. As Danny imagined Ewing's belligerent and likely shocked reaction to being captured and brought in for every one of his indiscretions, Danny wanted to laugh out right, but that would have been asking far too much of his beleaguered body. Instead he smiled broadly, completely not aware of the fact that the nurse had changed the dressings on his wound, gathered up her supplies, and had already left the room.

"Here, have some," Steve said. "Your breakfast is here, too. Then ... we can watch that game."

"Huh?" Danny paused his thoughts about Ewing as Steve raised the head of the bed a few cautious inches and pressed a cup of juice into his hands. He looked around almost stupidly. There was a dull ache inside his chest where the wound had been redressed; uncomfortable, and yet wholly manageable. Danny frowned and look towards Steve in askance. _Where the hell had the nurse gone off to?_

"I told you ... you're okay," Steve repeated off-handedly. He pointed at the tray of covered food. "Drink. Eat. Game. Or, take a nap ... I don't care."

Danny's mouth fell open wide. What the hell had just happened? Steve was already re-arranging his long body into the plastic side chair which he'd pulled over to the bed. He had no intention of going anywhere for the day and no intention of dwelling on what had just occurred with the nurse, and zero intent of providing more information about Ewing.

 _What?_ His brain backfired as he tentatively asked his body how it was feeling. Tired; aching, but almost okay. Danny was no fool and yet he could only stare at Steve in wonderment while his partner merely shrugged in silent reply.

_He'd done it again. He'd survived._

It had happened ... but Danny wasn't quite sure how it had happened. The nurse was gone - the pain bearable. _Ewing was in custody._ Danny's mouth gaped open soundlessly, searching for words which wouldn't come. He tried over and over again to say something and failed. Instead, the tray of food was pushed gently under his nose. He was expected to eat now and damn, if it didn't smell good and if his stomach didn't actually rumble softly in appreciation.

"Three more days, Danno," Steve added over the top of some newspaper which had magically appeared in his hands. It fluttered noisily in the air as Steve tried to fold it into a more manageable size. He nodded towards the tray of food and smiled, his eyes bright and encouraging. The earlier feelings of fear and worry had dissipated.

"Eat ... game's gonna start soon."

Danny nodded and shook his head, his internal signals crossing, still bewildered over so many things. He glanced quizzically toward his partner, but now Steve was evidently immersed in the sports section. Danny chuffed a soft noise under his breath.

 _He'd done it again. He'd be home this time next week._ That sense of feeling claustrophobic eased inside his chest and Danny sighed, inexplicably feeling more calm now.

Danny snuck another glance towards Steve and this time, their eyes briefly met before the newspaper rustled again and Steve re-focused on whatever article he was mock-reading. Nevertheless, Danny had caught Steve's smile before it was hidden from view and he smiled to himself, too, as he unwrapped the plastic fork.

He was okay.

So? _So, yeah, he could do this_ and well... he simply would.

_**~ End. ~** _


End file.
